the void
roared in full-throated ease;
the vibrant blues
flung a lightning or two;
strolling clouds
splashed sprinkles
on the earth.
a crispy chill crept on to her,
and she shivered in ecstasy.
fragrance of a refreshed soil
softly spread in the sullen air.
tomorrow,
at the moth-hour,
the winged termites will come
for the next day's crows and sparrows,
when a lonely sqyirrel
calls his mate,
and beat the rhythm
to the chirps of birdies.
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